The Scar
by Gellershorty101
Summary: She knew nothing about him, no name, nothing... only his scar. M&C story (4)
1. Prologue

Hi!! New fic!! And I know exactly where I'm going with it! This is a prologue, and it takes place back when they were kids, but the rest of the story will be when they're adults....  
  
The Scar  
  
The wind blew through the leaves, making them whistle quietly on their branches. Eight-year old Monica walked through a path, to a clearing, where all the other boys and girls had gathered to play after school. She walked slowly, looking for someone, anyone, that might want to play with her. She had no such luck, for she had few, if any, friends. Her brother was with two of his friends on the jungle gym, hanging by his legs, and nearly everyone had deserted the swings in favor of the slide.  
  
Everyone except one boy.  
  
He sat on a swing all alone, with short brown hair and a red t-shirt on, as he stared at his jeans. He seemed to be in deep thought, kicking the dirt under his feet. Monica figured he didn't have any friends either, and was eager to make him one of her own.  
  
"Hi, I'm Monica Geller, what's your name?" she asked, approaching him.  
  
"None of your business." He said, looking up at the girl.  
  
"Are you new?"  
  
"Yeah. I moved here a week ago."  
  
"Do you have any friends?"  
  
"No." he said, returning his gaze to his feet.  
  
"Do you wanna be my friend?" Monica asked, excitedly. It felt good to know she wasn't the only one that wasn't too popular.  
  
"I guess so," he answered, sadly.  
  
"Then what's your name?"  
  
"I said I'd be your friend, isn't that enough."  
  
"Fine. What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing." He said, but answered when she gave him a look, "Well, my parents got divorced."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry." She whispered, not knowing what to do next, but knew she had to do something to cheer him up."  
  
"Let's play hide-and-go-seek; it'll be fun, more fun then sitting around crying, anyway."  
  
"I wasn't crying!" he yelled, defensively.  
  
"Ok," she said rolling her eyes, "I'll be 'it' first, you go hide, and I'll count to one hundred."  
  
The boy gave in, and ran off while Monica covered her eyes. Once Chandler had settled behind a large bush, he started looking at Monica. He'd never her tell her, but he had had a crush on her since the first time he saw her last week at school. She was the prettiest girl he ever saw, and he scolded himself for thinking that way about what he convinced himself was 'another gross girl'.  
  
Monica started looking around for Chandler, although she didn't know his name, by climbing up a small tree to check if he had hid on a branch, then inside an old shack. She thought she spotted something moving in the bushes, and walked over to the area. Seeing the top of his hair, she smiled and popped out from behind the bush, but before she could shout "Got'cha!" Chandler was being taken away.  
  
A dark man, in his thirties, had viciously grabbed Chandler by the waist and had lifted him up into the air, throwing him over his shoulder as you might a knapsack. The man dropped him and started taping his mouth shut with masking tape that he seemed to have pulled from nowhere. Chandler struggled to get away, but the strength of his captor was far too powerful.  
  
Monica looked on wearily, not sure what to do. She was scared out of her mind, her thoughts racing. She was desperate to help the boy, but the man was too big and she knew that she would be captured too if she tried to help him. All she could do was watch.  
  
The man stood Chandler up and grabbed his arm tightly. He started dragging him along impatiently, as Chandler tried to untape his mouth. He managed to do it, and started screaming with all of his might.  
  
"Help me! Monic-" but he could no longer speak, for an ugly, evil hand covered his mouth and continued to take him away. By now Monica had gathered up enough courage to run after the boy and was approaching him with speed.  
  
She stretched out her hand quietly, and with Chandler's one free hand he grabbed the tips, but was soon thrown out of her sight, past the bushes, a knife hitting his skin. The kidnapper slashed an army knife into Chandler's skin, leaving a wound so deep, it didn't look like the blood would ever stop flowing. Tears streaming down his face, the man ran off, Chandler in tow, deeper into the woods, and out of sight.  
  
Monica lost all hope, and lost more than that. She lost her one chance at a friend, that she was determined not to lose. She would find that boy someday, she swore silently to herself. That promise would not be as easy as it seemed; she didn't even know his name.  
  
He was one boy, in a big world, and all she knew of him, was his scar.  
  
If you were reading my other story (Just Our Luck) I will still be adding the epilogue.  
  
Prologue...don't just judge by the prologue, you have to read how the rest of the story goes... Please review!! They make me smile...  
  
People who don't review are bad people. I don't like those people. There's another word for those people...losers. 


	2. The Dream

I never had so many reviews on my first chapter before!! To quote Matty (Perry...duh!) "I'm all a twitter!" Although I am kind of depressed because my brother is coming back from college and I really don't want him to. Luckily I can go next year so... hehe okey dokey, this chapter is, shall we say...still in the "introduction mode" but don't worry...things happen... it continues about twenty years into the future.  
  
The Scar  
  
----------------  
  
Twenty years later  
  
Shoving the spatula under the pancakes, Monica flipped one over, then the others, hurrying to make breakfast for the army of people sitting in her restaurant on an early Sunday morning.  
  
"Why did I decide to do the morning shift today?" she muttered to her self, quietly.  
  
"Monica? Someone's here to compliment the chef," said a waiter, as he dumped a few used plates into the sink.  
  
"Yes! I love this part," Monica yelled, hurrying to take out her self-made organizational award.  
  
"Hey Mon," said Rachel.  
  
"Oh it's just you," she said, disappointedly.  
  
"Well nice to see you too."  
  
"What's up?" she said casually, taking a drink of water.  
  
"Well, I met this guy I think you might like, and I wanted to know if you would be interested in doubling with me and Ross?"  
  
"I told you, I don't want a date, I'm not totally over Richard yet."  
  
"But Mon, it's been months, okay? It's just a date, and I'll be there. C'mon, it'll be fun!"  
  
"Fine."  
  
-------------  
  
She knew Rachel had good taste in men, but what guy thought that Homo sapiens were gay? He was nice, and she'd like to be friends with Joey, but who wants to date someone who can't add a six dollar tip to an even thirty? They'd definitely just be friends, especially now that he was moving in next door.  
  
Throwing her purse onto the couch, Monica went straight to her room and collapsed on the bed. Kicking off her shoes, not even bothering to take off her clothes, she curled up under a blanket and closed her eyes...  
  
"Monica! Monica! Help me!" the boy yelled as he was being beaten on the filthy ground.  
  
"I can't," she whispered to herself. "I just can't."  
  
Being dragged away, the last thing she saw was the look of a knife against his flesh, leaving a wound inches long, and the soft cry of a helpless little boy.  
  
The last thing she saw was the look of a knife against his flesh, leaving a wound inches long, and the soft cry of a helpless little boy.  
  
The last thing she saw was the look of a knife against his flesh, leaving a wound inches long, and the soft cry of a helpless little boy.  
  
The last thing she saw was the look of a knife against his flesh, leaving a wound inches long, and the soft cry of a helpless little boy.  
  
Sitting upright in bed, Monica came back to reality, it was just a dream, that dream. That dream that she had countless times, that nightmare. Laying down again, she closed her eyes before she had time to think about it...  
  
It was the soft cry of a helpless little boy, with a scar on his arm, blood gushing out, out of his scar.  
  
"No! NO! I can't! No!" Monica screamed, sitting up in bed, beads of sweat streaming down her face, as she caught her breath.  
  
"Mon, Mon, what's wrong?" asked Rachel, running through the door to her roommate's side, and sitting down on the bed.  
  
"Nothing, it's nothing."  
  
"The dream again?"  
  
Reluctantly, she admitted, "Yeah, it was the dream."  
  
"I really think you should see someone about this, I mean, you've been having this dream since you were like what? Eight? I mean, I know you won't tell me what it's about, but maybe you could tell a psychiatrist-"  
  
"Rachel! I told you, I'm not going to a shrink!" she shouted, as she started to cry.  
  
"Okay, it's okay," Rachel whispered, rubbing her friend's back. "Don't worry, you'll be okay."  
  
"I don't think so; I've been having this dream my whole life."  
  
"Can't you at least tell me? I mean, I'm your best friend, don't I deserve to know what's bothering you?"  
  
"I can't tell you, it's too hard to explain. But there is one thing you can do..."  
  
"Oh Monica, thank you, what is it? I'll do anything to help you with this," said Rachel, eagerly.  
  
"How long do scars last?"  
  
-------------------------  
  
Did you know it took me about 6 minutes to figure out how to spell physycaitristists? Yeppers, still can't do it.  
  
Yes, yes, it was short, as I said..."Introduction mode" it'll be switching over to "story mode" shortly...  
  
Let's talk about the friends finale...who else was excited that Matty got the last line raises hand, well, I loved the last episode but it was so sad, was crying, but I'll be okay, we still have Joey to anticipate.  
  
Reviews make me happy, you make me happy! Be happy! Lalalala... 


	3. The Meeting

Sorry about the slow update. May is so hectic, I have all this stuff going on that I want to bang on the keyboard!!! Don't mind me --- fsda;kljsdfa;kljdfs--- life is crazy. So, I can't spell physchaitrist (?) or accept (?) except (?), you still love me right? Right? I know you have the power to forgive...  
  
So for this chapter...I bring Chandler and Joey into the picture.  
  
--  
  
"Hey Mon," said Rachel, throwing her purse down on the couch, "I wanted to ask you something this morning but you left for work early."  
  
"What is it?" she asked, flipping through a magazine.  
  
"Well, it's about your dreams. When did they start?"  
  
Monica thought for a moment, careful not to let out the secret she had been holding back,"I don't know, maybe when I was eight?"  
  
"So why did you ask me how long scars last?"  
  
"Oh, it's nothing, it's nothing, forget it. Really, I'm fine."  
  
"Okay," Rachel replied, worriedly, "But if anything is bothering you promise you'll tell me."  
  
--  
  
"Chandler, just take the damn job!" shouted Joey, from the kitchen.  
  
"NO! I told you, I won't! So stop pressuring me!" Chandler screamed back from his chair in the living room.  
  
"Look man, you need this, okay? The government is going to take care of you anymore so just suck it up! You need money, you need a job, and you need to pay your half of the rent! I know that you don't want to be a waiter but let's face it, you don't have any other choice!" Joey exclaimed, trying to knock some sense into his friend.  
  
"I won't do it, I have worked too hard my whole life to try to be successful, and just because I couldn't go to college or have a normal life doesn't mean I can't still be someone I can have some respect for!"  
  
"We're moving into a new apartment, okay? We need money! There are worse jobs than being a waiter!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"What is this really about?" Joey asked calmly.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." Chandler answered, looking away.  
  
"Is this because Charles waited tables?" Joey wondered, careful not to upset Chandler.  
  
He looked away, and thought to himself of that fateful day that his whole world changed forever. The day he lost his family, his friends, and his life.  
  
--  
  
...Twenty years earlier...  
  
"Get in here, you rotten boy!" yelled Charles Bing, throwing Chandler into the front passenger seat of his car.  
  
"Let go of me!" he cried back, ripping the tape off his mouth as he tried to wipe away the blood streaming down his arm.  
  
"Shut up!" Charles shouted, jumping behind the wheel.  
  
"Take me home! Where's my mom?" Chandler asked desperately.  
  
"You're never going to see her again; I've killed her, so get over it."  
  
By now, Chandler was in hysterics, and had no idea what was going on, "Who are you? Why are you taking me away?"  
  
Ignoring his questions, Charles answered back, "You're getting blood all over my car! Wipe it off!"  
  
Scared for his life, Chandler took the bottom of his shirt and wiped the seat of the car, leaving a blood stain that had already set in.  
  
"Don't talk, I'm taking you away. Away forever, so you'll never see anyone you know again."  
  
Tears running down his cheeks, from his big blue eyes, he could only hope that Monica would save him. His hopes had failed.  
  
--  
  
"Chandler! Chandler!" Joey shouted, trying to get his attention.  
  
"Sorry," Chandler said, returning to reality.  
  
"Look, let's face it. You don't have enough backing you up to get a real job yet, and that's nothing to be ashamed of. It's wasn't your fault that foster care couldn't give you a college education!"  
  
"That's true," Chandler said.  
  
"So will you take the job?"  
  
"Fine, but I'm only doing this for you." he said rubbing his five-inch scar.  
  
"Thanks," Joey said going into his room, "And hey, you never know, maybe you'll meet that girl of yours," he said with a wink.  
  
"Sure," he said looking at his arm, "Monica."  
  
Chandler started laughing, knowing it would be crazy to think that she even remembered who he was. They had known each other for a few minutes, twenty years ago, the thought was simply absurd, but Chandler couldn't help but think that she was thinking about him too.  
  
--  
  
"...and then you take the dirty dishes, and put them in this sink right here." Paula finished, introducing Chandler to his new job at Allesandro's, "You got it?"  
  
"Yeah," he answered, looking around at his new job, and not liking it at all.  
  
"Here's your jacket, you have to wear it all the time, no matter how hot it gets."  
  
"Okay," he said slipping it on. That didn't bother him; usually Chandler would always be caught wearing long sleeves, to hide his scar, something he was ashamed of.  
  
Chandler felt a tap on his shoulder, "Hi, I'm Monica Geller the head chef here, are you the new waiter?"  
  
Monica. It couldn't be the same one, there must be millions of Monica's in the world, why would this be the same Monica?  
  
"Hello?" she said, looking at Chandler curiously.  
  
"Oh, yeah, I'm Chandler Tyler; yes I'm the new waiter."  
  
"It's nice to meet you, now if you need anything, I'm always in the kitchen somewhere so feel free to ask me. I have to get back to work," she said, turning around, mouthing the word 'wow' to herself when he was out of sight.  
  
Throwing a lobster into the pot, Monica turned to Paula, "The new guy is cute!"  
  
"I thought you liked him," Paula answered back.  
  
"Did you see his eyes? Oh my gosh!"  
  
"You should go for it!" Paula encouraged her.  
  
"No, I couldn't. Could I?"  
  
"I think he was checking you out before."  
  
"Maybe," Monica wondered, "But I'll wait a little bit, I mean, he just got here, I have time."  
  
--  
  
"Well, that's the last of it," said Joey, throwing down a box in their new apartment.  
  
"It doesn't feel like home yet," Chandler admitted.  
  
"You up for a game of foosball?"  
  
"Sure," Chandler said, happily.  
  
After Joey beat him Chandler smiled back, "Now it feels like home."  
  
--  
  
I thought I'd end it on a cheerful note, because I'm just in one of my happy go lucky moods!! Guess where my mom is right now? Barnes and Noble!! Getting me my "Friends...'Till the end" book!! A WOO HOO!!! I hope they have them there.  
  
Anywhoo....that was longer then last time, and I'm sorry I took so long to update. Don't worry, I'll be faster next time, and if you are still confused on this story, all will be explained in good time. This is 'story modish' by the by. And if you wanted an epilogue for my other story, I just don't feel in the mood, sorry. Maybe someday, but that day will com quicker if you review ;) My neck hurts; please review to ease the pain! 


	4. The Phone Call

A/N: I promised myself that when I started writing fics I wouldn't be as lazy and procrastinistic (is that a word? According to spell check, no) as all the other writers I know who take forever with updates, but tada! Yep, I've become one of them ::slaps hand:: , I'm sorry, but this time of the year is so hectic, especially for me, I'm graduating high school and there is a LOT going on. Here is the next chapter...hope you like it (Expect quicker updates in the summer)  
  
-  
  
"Joey, can you give me a hand with these?" asked Chandler, entering their new apartment with groceries.  
  
"Sure," he said, shutting off the television, and entering the kitchen.  
  
As Chandler placed some milk in the refrigerator there was a knock on the door.  
  
Opening it, the across-the-hall neighbors stood there, lasagnas in hand, "Hey Joey!" said Monica, remembering the nice, but dim, man she had gone out with last week.  
  
"Hi Mon, Hi Rachel," he said, taking the lasagnas eagerly, "This is my roommate Chandler Tyler. Chandler, this is Monica Geller and Rachel Green."  
  
"Chandler, right, from the restaurant!"  
  
"Hi Monica," he said, "Nice to meet you Rachel."  
  
"You two know each other?" Joey asked, confused as usual.  
  
"Yeah, Monica is the head chef where I work. She's my boss." Answered Chandler, looking at his feet.  
  
"That's so cool that you know each other!" Rachel shouted, excitedly, "Now we can all be friends!"  
  
Chandler stared at his new peers, hesitant to the get too close to them. Anyone who ever started a meaningful relationship with him had ended up breaking his heart, intentional or not. Girlfriends, relatives, friends, they were all the same. Joey was the only one who he allowed himself to get close to. Something told him this would take a lot of work.  
  
One thing that had bothered him, or rather, consumed his thoughts, everyday since he began his new job, was Monica. She was beautiful, to say the least, but he was too scared to make any move. He pondered her name; what was the last name of the girl he met so long ago? The only person in the world, who witnessed his kidnapping, what was her name? Her first name was Monica, that much was certain, but the rest was too vague, too unclear to figure out.  
  
"So, we were wondering if you too wanted to come over for dinner tonight?" Monica ventured, looking at the flashing 5:00 P.M. on her digital watch.  
  
"That sounds great," said Joey, "What time?"  
  
"Seven, we're having pizza," answered Rachel.  
  
"Do you guys want to hang out here until then?" asked Joey.  
  
"Sure, we can help you unpack," said Monica eagerly, grabbing an empty box and throwing it away, passing a less than enthused Rachel.  
  
Noticing his bare arm, something he would only reveal to his best friend, Chandler ran into his cluttered bedroom in a rush, leaving all present, more than confused. He struggled with his T-shirt, throwing it off, and found a sweatshirt to put on. Returning to the living room, everyone waited for an explanation.  
  
"What?" he asked, innocently.  
  
"What was that?" asked Joey, "One second you're in here, and the next, you're running at the speed of light into your bedroom."  
  
"I don't know, I was cold, I needed a sweatshirt." He answered, dryly, concentrating on a piece of dust on the floor.  
  
"Are you kidding?" stated Rachel, "It's like a hundred degrees in here!"  
  
"Yeah, Chandler, what's going on?" pressured Joey.  
  
Chandler glared at his friend to try to make him understand. With Joey not comprehending, Chandler surreptitiously made eyes at his own arm, eventually causing Joey to nod in understanding.  
  
"Oh, uh, Chandler gets cold very easily, yeah; it's always been like that." Joey covered up for him.  
  
The girls just nodded and started unpacking more boxes, as Chandler whispered a quiet 'thank you' to the man he owed so much. Not just his job, his apartment, and a little money. He owed Joey his life.  
  
-  
  
"Oh my gosh! Joey, you have seven sisters?" asked Monica incredulously, chewing on her second slice of pizza as Joey swallowed the remainder of his fifth.  
  
"Yep, seven whole sisters," he answered.  
  
"Wow," said Rachel, "Well, two is enough for me. Chandler, what about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?"  
  
"Uh, nope, no, just me." He said, smiling.  
  
"Oh, that sounds great, your parents probably gave you a lot of attention, plus, they couldn't favor anyone more than you." noted Monica, thinking of her own parental problems.  
  
"Well, yeah, but I never knew my father, and my mother, she uh, well," He began clearing his throat, as an excuse to think of something else to say, deciding it was better not to get into this just yet, "She wasn't really around much."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry." Answered both of the women, extremely curious, but polite enough to change the topic to something else.  
  
Many, many hours later, the four of them were still in Monica and Rachel's apartment, nibbling on potato chips and drinking sodas. Monica and Chandler sat on the couch, close to each other, while Joey and Rachel tried aiming popcorn into each other's mouths, missing terribly. It seemed like a little slumber party to them, all seemed to be enjoying themselves, accept Chandler.  
  
Glancing at the clock, he noticed how late it really was, "Hey you guys, it's 2:30 in the morning," he said, tiredly. He could tell Monica was exhausted, particularly by the way she was cuddling with him, eyes drifting shut on his chest. Her arms were wrapped around him, as she snuggled closer. Chandler didn't principally mind, but he was a bit uncomfortable. The scar on his arm was searing with pain, as it did every once in a while, but the pressure Monica was putting on it was a little unbearable.  
  
His pain getting the better of him, he let out a soft "Ow", causing Monica to sit up straight, looking him in the eye.  
  
"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"  
  
"No, no." he answered, letting her lay back down, her head resting on his thighs.  
  
It's not like he would ever tell her about his scar, no one would ever know, that much he swore to himself. The only person he could ever let in was Joey, other than that, no one. He couldn't tell, he was too ashamed.  
  
-  
  
Chandler's new job had been a handful. Waiting tables wasn't as easy as it looked, there were annoying customers, dirty dishes, lousy tips, and crowded kitchens. Not a day went by when he didn't mess up an order, or spill a drink. He was sure that if Monica hadn't been friendly with him, he would be at the unemployment office long ago.  
  
"Chandler! There's a telephone call for you! They say it's urgent!" shouted someone from the phone. He walked over and picked it up, listening intently after a quick "hello". The person on the other end said something that he could not believe, something he would not believe.  
  
Placing the paper that held an order in the appropriate place, he approached Monica, "Monica?" she turned around and wiped her forehead with the back of her palm.  
  
"Yes?" she asked. Lunchtime was very busy, and though Chandler was her friend, he knew that no one was to disrupt her unless it was absolutely mandatory. This led her to believe, or hope, that maybe he wanted to ask her out. She knew it couldn't be, that was just Paula dabbing crazy thoughts into her head.  
  
"Could I ask you something?"  
  
"You better do it quick, I'm very busy." She answered, trying to not be too unfriendly.  
  
"Well yeah, it's kind of important. Actually, it's very important," he said, knowing that what he was about to say would change her life forever.  
  
- - - -  
  
I may have gotten another 'accept' wrong (SORRY!) Oh my God, I hope that this scar thing is getting too "Harry Potterish", I'm going to try everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. You know, how it burned when he was near Monica? I don't think that I will do that anymore, I was going to make it a thing, but I don't want this to get like that, too superficial.  
  
Speaking of crickets! We weren't speaking of crickets? There were two in my basement (which is where I am right now) and they freaked me out! Luckily, my dad killed one and my Grandma killed the other. She's a very hip and happenin' granny. I'll continue, hopefully soon, and you will know what the phone call was about, and eventually find out why Chandler owes his life to Joey. Please review, especially if you hate crickets (No offense if you are a cricket) ;) 


	5. The News

A/N: Yeah, I know what you are all thinking..."Oh my God!" well, that's right, believe it or not, I updated quickly ::gasps:: Thanks for all the reviews! Even the ones involving the word "accept" and crickets. But you didn't need to give death threats, geez. Guess where I am? That's right, English class, I have nothing left to do and we still have ::glances at clock that is annoyingly blocked by flag:: 20 minutes left! So I figured, I might as well write the next chapter of my fic. Who else is hyperventilating? Me! Me! It's June 1, and I graduate in ::inhales deeply:: 15 days. Ahh!! Oh well, University of Pennsylvania can't be that bad (. The whole, "Chandler owes Joey his life" story won't be cleared up until much, much later, but the phone call is just below... no cheating!!  
  
-  
  
"Well what is it?" Monica asked impatiently.  
  
Chandler knew that stalling would only make things worse, but the news was so incredibly terrible, he didn't know what to tell her. Chandler was never really very good at sympathy, or emotional support, after all he could barely provide himself with it. All of his life, he was the one who was used to receiving the bad news; it was interesting, yet cruel, the turn of the tides, he being the one to tell what happened. In some ways it was just as bad.  
  
Noticing that Monica was about to walk away if she didn't get an answer, Chandler started again, "Well, there was something that happened, I, uh..."  
  
"Chandler, I really don't have a lot of time, so if you could just tell me," Monica said, tapping her foot.  
  
"Okay, well there is this man, Charles Bing, he's well, he's a horrible person. Anyway, he um, well I don't want to tell you the whole story but," he stopped, grabbed her hand and tugged her into a hug, although she didn't understand why.  
  
"Chandler? Why are we hugging?" she asked, worriedly.  
  
"Mon, I'm sorry," he whispered, rubbing her back, "That was the hospital," he took a deep breath, "Your parents have passed away."  
  
Not completely understanding what he just said, tears flowed down her cheeks anyway as she stared back at him in disbelief, "What?"  
  
"Charles, he, he murdered them." Chandler answered back, squeezing her closer.  
  
Now he knew how difficult this must have been for everyone else who had to be the deliverer of bad news. Whenever something negative happened in his life, which was quite often, he would always hate the person who told him. They would constantly reassure him, telling him that everything would be okay, and he would just be sitting there thinking, "Stop talking, you have know idea what the hell I'm going through so don't even try to pretend like you can understand."  
  
It was the dire feeling of knowing that you were the one who made it hurt more.  
  
-  
  
Approaching Monica's apartment after returning home early from work, she had gone almost completely limp on Chandler's body, forcing him to support her all the way to the couch. She plopped down, letting the tears flow even more freely now that she was in her own home.  
  
Obviously Chandler didn't know what to do. What could he say? What was someone in his position supposed to say? What was his position anyway?  
  
All he knew was that he didn't want to be the one to pretend like he understood, even if he did. He didn't want to be the social worker who told him he would be moving again. He didn't want to be Joey when he told him that he had to change his identity again. He didn't want to be himself in that moment, knowing that Monica was in so much pain, while he was just an observer, crying with her when she needed him too.  
  
"Monica, I know that I cannot possibly understand how you're feeling, but I want you to know that I feel terrible." He said, pulling her closer so she could sob on his shoulder.  
  
From the cab, they had called their friends, who were supposedly on their way home. Chandler had notified Joey, the only other person who truly understood the meaning behind this, and Monica had called her brother, Rachel, and her friend Phoebe. Chandler hadn't met Ross or Phoebe, but prayed that they, with the help of the others, would be enough support to sustain Monica.  
  
-  
  
After the four others arrived in Monica's apartment, they immediately fell into tears. Chandler was the only one who seemed to be holding himself together, probably more for Monica's sake than anything else. Joey knew he needed to talk to Chandler about the murder, but knew he couldn't do it in front of everyone else, at least just not yet.  
  
"Chandler?" Joey said quietly, when he noticed his friend was finally alone in the kitchen.  
  
"Yeah?" he said sadly.  
  
"Charles murdered them?"  
  
"Yeah," answered Chandler.  
  
"Was it because they were..." Joey trailed off, assuming his friend would be able to fill in the blanks himself.  
  
"Probably, I just hope the police caught him. Chances are there were others like the Gellers," Chandler noted, worriedly.  
  
"You don't think he'll go after my parents do you?" asked Joey, extremely worried.  
  
"I hope not, but he already killed Nancy Gordon."  
  
"Who was that?" Joey asked, confused.  
  
"My second social worker, remember? I was like eleven years old," Chandler said, looking out the window, in deep thought.  
  
"Oh yeah, her. Chandler, does this mean that you'll have to, you know, 'hide' again?" Joey asked, not really wanting an answer.  
  
"I don't know, I'll have to talk to the cops, but I hope not."  
  
-  
  
After Ross, Phoebe, and Joey had returned to their respective homes, and Rachel had announced she would retire for the night, Chandler remained with Monica, as she stared at the coffee table, silent tears streaming down her face. Chandler was surprised that he allowed himself to get this attached to another. He knew what he could be getting himself into, but he didn't care. After all, he felt partially responsible for her unhappiness.  
  
"Who is he?" sniffed Monica, as she continued to cry.  
  
"Who?" Chandler asked, not really paying attention.  
  
"That Charles Bing guy...who is he?" she repeated, grabbing yet another tissue.  
  
"It's a long story," Chandler answered, not wanting to confuse her more. He didn't think it was the time; she should grieve first, and then understand why. Chandler especially didn't want Monica to learn what had happened in the past, and its true meaning. That would only lead to one thing, the only thing he didn't want; the revelation of his scar.  
  
-  
  
Okay, you see, the only reason I was worried this was going to get too "Harry Potterish" was because I was going to say that his scar burned everytime Monica was around (or every time Charles Bing was around) but I decided not to do that. NOW, I'm worried that this will seem too... brace yourself for a new word... "Agatha Christy murder mystery-ic" LOL, I hope it's not, because I don't plan on this becoming a solving a mystery type of story, although it may seem like that now because you don't understand a lot of the things I've mentioned. Please Review! 


	6. The Moment

Hola, mis amigos! Long time, no see. I'm sorry it's been so long, really, I graduate in 4 days!! Scary, yes, but it's not quite as scary as the day I got my driver's license muhahaha...ok, next chapter...there are a lot of flashbacks in this story; I hope it's not too confusing...  
  
-  
  
"It's a very long story," Chandler repeated, stroking Monica's hair.  
  
"Does it look like I'm going anywhere anytime soon?" she challenged, motioning to her blanket and the boxes of tissues surrounding her.  
  
"Okay," he relented, "I'll tell you who he is."  
  
After a long pause, Monica started to become impatient, "Look, Chandler, just tell me, nothing is going to make me sadder than I am right now," she whispered, in a painful voice.  
  
"Okay, this is what happened...you should know though, I don't even know all the facts, and it's very vague..."  
  
-  
  
Flashback twenty seven years  
  
One-year old Chandler awoke abruptly in his tiny room, rubbing his eyes, blanket in hand. He had heard screaming coming from the kitchen below and immediately started to wail. His cries could be heard throughout the house, causing his parents to argue further.  
  
"Now look what you did! You woke my baby!" Shouted Nora.  
  
"I don't care!" Charles yelled, stubbornly.  
  
"What?" Nora asked, shocked.  
  
"I hate you! I hate the boy! And I hate this town; let me get out of here!" Charles screamed, nastily.  
  
"In a heartbeat!" she answered, stomping over to the door and opening it, waiting for him to make his departure out of her life forever, "Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked, tears in her eyes.  
  
"I want to say goodbye to Chandler," he answered, trying to sound gentle, but failing miserably.  
  
"No, I won't let you anywhere near my son ever again," she replied calmly.  
  
"You have to! He's my son too-" Nora cut him off.  
  
"No, he's not, a son is someone you love and care about, now you get out of my house, I never want to see you again."  
  
Before she could stop him, Charles Bing ran up the stairs, and into Chandler's room, seeing the crying baby in his crib. He leaned over, and whispered quickly into the baby's ear, "Listen, I'll be back, I'll be back for you, and I'll be back for your mother, and it's not going to be pretty."  
  
Nora ran into the room, to see what Charles was doing to her son, but before she could catch her breath, he ran past her, out the door, and out of her life. Out of her life, until he returned.  
  
-  
  
"So... he's your father?" Monica asked, a pained expression on her face.  
  
"I'm not totally sure, I mean, I only knew him for the first year of my life, and when I was a kid my mom would always say that I didn't have a father, and then- then my mom died, and then, I- I," Chandler began to break down, not caring anymore that he let another person, a girl at that, witness him crying, "Then he tried to kill me, and I, I was okay, and then they brought me to this place and I," Chandler stopped, and this time Monica was the confidant, leaning over and hugging him.  
  
"But don't worry, everything is okay now," he whispered into her ear.  
  
His voice sent shivers down her spine, as he rubbed her back. He released her from their comfortable hug, and she looked into his eyes.  
  
"Chandler..."  
  
He leaned forward, centimeters away from her lips, waiting intently for the moment to occur. Their mouths had barely touched, and already they had locked in a passionate kiss. It was the amazing feeling of knowing another shared your pain, and that the person who felt that way was with you all along.  
  
She brought herself closer to him, causing him to fall backwards onto the couch. They continued to kiss, Monica on top, when Chandler felt a stinging pain in his arm. She had put all her weight on top of that arm, and his scar was burning intently. However, there was something new that was felt, an emotion Chandler couldn't quite place. All that he could understand was that his pain was relieved with a different feeling, a good one, one that was deeper than anything ever before.  
  
Monica felt his arm wrap around her, as he kissed her neck passionately. As he began to unbutton her shirt, she stopped him suddenly, to switch positions. Chandler now on top, Monica tugged at his long-sleeved shirt and began to lift it up, but was instantly halted by an apprehensive hand.  
  
"Monica, I don't think we should be doing this yet," he lied, thinking of that as the best excuse not to expose his scar.  
  
"Oh my god, I'm sorry, I thought that-"  
  
"No, sweetie, it's just, I mean, one second we're kissing and the next thing I know, we're about to-" he inhaled deeply, "I think it's wrong to rush into this."  
  
Monica couldn't believe that this was coming from a guy. Every other man she ever kissed was always looking for more, and never even thought of stopping it from happening. The only negative thinking was, for once, she wanted him to continue.  
  
"Yeah, you're right," she said back, trying to hide her disappointment.  
  
Interrupting the important conversation the two were having, Joey rushed through the door and into the living room where Monica and Chandler were now sitting.  
  
"Chandler!" Joey shouted, panting.  
  
"What's going on?" He asked worriedly.  
  
"It's about Charles," Joey began.  
  
"Well?" Chandler asked, anxiously.  
  
A frown present on his face, Joey continued, "He's in my apartment."  
  
- - - -  
  
Hey! I'll try to make longer chapters, but it's hard, and I'll try to update as fast as I can, that's the most I can promise. Well, instead of the usual author's note, I will leave you with one of the greatest conversations with one of the greatest persons ever...enjoy! (I'm Heather, which you should know)  
  
Heather: wow sorry my computer is gay  
  
Jen: heather's computer likes men  
  
Heather: yes it does, and it's also a pothead  
  
Jen: my computer has constant PMS  
  
Heather: OMG they should get married!  
  
Jen: OMG YES Heather: but mine's gay Jen: we'll make it a lesbian Heather: Aww, they'll be so happy together!  
  
Ahh...love ya!!  
  
You know my motto... Reviews make me happy. You make me happy. Be happy. 


	7. The Runaway

Woot!! I am officially done with my mandatory educational career ::wipes forehead:: it wasn't a piece of cake...Oooh cake!!  
  
- - - -  
  
"He's in your apartment!?" Chandler screamed, worriedly.  
  
"Yeah," Joey nodded quickly.  
  
"Well, why, wha- what's he, why?" Chandler stuttered.  
  
"I don't know but there isn't time for that, he kind of just came in, and he- he was there to see you, and he said he was going to- to kill you... then he started looking everywhere for you and saw the picture of Monica that we have from that time we went to the Yankees game, and he said that he wanted to kill her too, so you guys got to get out of here NOW!" Joey said, very quickly.  
  
It was Monica's turn to talk, "I don't underst-"  
  
She was cut off by Chandler grabbing her arm, and motioning to her with a silencing finger. Monica was scared for her life, but what was worse, she had no idea what was going on around her, and it all occurred too quickly.  
  
There was a loud, incessant banging on the door, and when no one attended to its calling, the person behind it started pounding holes through it, with what can only be described as an ax.  
  
Without hesitation, Chandler grabbed Monica's hand, and motioned for Joey to follow. Silently, the three went out to the balcony and began making their way down the fire escape. They assumed that Charles had already gotten into the apartment, and that he would soon realize where they had disappeared to. After much climbing and descending, they came to a stop, realizing the ladder didn't go down any farther.  
  
"Damn it!" Chandler muttered to himself.  
  
"What is it?" Monica whispered, the first words she was able to manage in quite a while.  
  
"It won't go anymore." Joey answered.  
  
"Ok, I'll jump first," Chandler stated.  
  
"Chandler, no, you're going to get hurt!" Monica said stubbornly.  
  
"I'd rather be killed by the cement than by my own flesh and blood," he quipped back.  
  
With that being said he positioned himself on the railing and carefully jumped off. It wasn't that high, maybe twenty feet, but it seemed pretty high from where they were standing. Chandler still brutally scraped his knee.  
  
"Monica, you're next," Joey said to her, "You can't hesitate, I think I hear Charles coming.  
  
Monica was too scared and wouldn't budge.  
  
"You'll be fine, I'm going to catch you don't worry." Chandler encouraged.  
  
Monica knew she had to be brave and do this for them, "Okay." She copied the method Chandler used to jump and let gravity do the rest. Before she knew it she felt herself falling, although without grace, into Chandler's arms. Quickly he dropped her down, and waited for Joey.  
  
"Monica, hail a cab," he ordered her quickly, looking up and noticing Charles trying to maneuver down the stairs.  
  
"Joey hurry up, I see him," Chandler said.  
  
Silently, and with more courage than the other two had shown, Joey jumped, landing perfectly in a squatting position. The others had no time to commend him, for the cab had just arrived and Charles had spotted them.  
  
Getting into the taxi, they quickly told the man in front of them to simply drive. He was a bit confused, but agreed when Chandler waved a twenty in his face. They sped off, not looking back in fear of what would be seen.  
  
- - -  
  
Charles landed on the ground, and stood up slowly. A man his age shouldn't be jumping like that, but he was in fairly good shape. He wiped some dirt off his knees and saw his victims' cab driving off into the distance, until it was drowned out by all the traffic and buzz that New York City held within it.  
  
Picking up his cell phone, he called the number of his friend Paul, the cab driver, "Did you pick them up," Charles asked, hoping that his frantic call from the apartment was quick enough for his buddy to be the driver for the three he was in search of.  
  
"Sure did, I have 'em right here," he answered, and when his passengers were getting a little too curious, he patted his pocket, making them believe that what was inside it was what he was referring too.  
  
"Good," Charles answered, an evil smile spreading across his face.  
  
"Where should I take the 'rare coins'?" Paul asked.  
  
"Wherever they want, just make sure you tell me where you end up."  
  
-  
  
-  
  
-  
  
Unfortunately for Paul, Chandler had heard that 'rare coin' expression many a time in the past, and was not fooled. He decided to be misleading, and asked him to drop them off at the motel a few blocks away. They stepped out, Joey and Monica both assuming they would really be staying here, and made their way into the main office. Chandler watched Paul pick up his cell phone, and speed off.  
  
"Chandler, do you want me to pay or what?" Joey asked, getting out his wallet.  
  
"No, we're not staying here," Chandler said quickly, and took Monica's hand to walk out of the building. He'd become quite protective of Monica lately, putting his arm around her in the cab, holding her hand anytime he could. She didn't seem to mind; little did he know she wanted it more than anything.  
  
"We're not?" Joey asked, curiously.  
  
"No," Chandler replied, stepping onto the city bus that had luckily stopped by at the time they needed it, "Our driver was one of Charles' accomplices, remember he said 'rare coins' that's us, he was talking about us, I know it. So now, he thinks we're staying there, but we're really not." Chandler finished, sitting down and taking a deep breath.  
  
"So are we going to the place that we usually go?" Joey asked, assuming his friend would understand.  
  
"Yep," Chandler answered.  
  
"Where?" Monica asked curiously, "You mean, this happens a lot?"  
  
"Well, we never usually know that Charles is trying to get us, all the other times we were warned that he was coming, this time we know so we have to hide. We're going to a place in New Jersey; it's where Joey and I always go in case he's out to get us. I'm so sorry that you've been brought into this," Chandler said genuinely, rubbing her arm, "But I promise I won't let anything happen to you."  
  
"Okay well then I have to call Rachel, or my mom or someth-"  
  
"No, you can't, no one can know where we are," Joey said.  
  
"I won't tell them I'll just explain that I'm okay and I'll be back-"  
  
"Mon, you can't," Chandler said softly, "I know you don't understand what's going on but you have no idea how dangerous this situation is, you cannot call anyone."  
  
"Well then explain to me how dangerous this situation is," she begged, craving knowledge.  
  
"No, it's best if you don't know, at least not until you have to," Chandler answered, motioning them to get off the bus in front of the Port Authority, in hopes of catching the next transit to Camden, New Jersey.  
  
"Well, what happens when I have to know, and I don't!" She challenged, quickening her pace as Chandler began to walk faster.  
  
He suddenly stopped, and faced her, "Did you ever read the book 'Number the Stars'?"  
  
"I think so, why?" She asked, wondering what this was about.  
  
"The girl, she, she was able to survive the threats of the Nazis, she was able to save her entire family, do you know why?" Chandler asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Because she didn't know. She had absolutely no idea that she was carrying in that basket, the most important item for her family's survival. Don't you get it, Monica? If she had known what she was carrying, she would have been killed. Ignorance can be helpful sometimes you know, especially in situations like this."  
  
They continued walking, up the escalator, down to the ticket machine, and to the gate. They stood there for what seemed like forever, when eventually the bus arrived. They boarded their escape route, and immediately went to the back of the coach bus. Chandler sat in the corner, Monica next to him, then Joey. The bus began to fill and suddenly Monica found herself suspicious of all around her. She began to shiver, getting the chills, partially because of her fears, but also because it was cold and they were without jackets.  
  
Chandler unconsciously wrapped his arm around her yet again, and held her close to him.  
  
He whispered in her ear, "Mon, I know you're cold and scared, I am too, but I'm not going to let anything happen to you, okay? We're all going to be fine, you just wait and see," he promised her, "And you'll be warm soon, the heat will come on, and when we get to Jersey we're all going to get ourselves jackets, we have to change clothes anyway in case they recognize us. But don't worry about that now, I'm here, I'm going to take care of you and nothing is going to harm you," he took a deep breath, "Nothing, I promise."  
  
- - - - -  
  
Hmm... that may well be the longest chapter yet... who knows? So review, I hate it how some people review one chapter, tell me it's the greatest story ever, and then never review again... I mean, what's that about? 


	8. The Memories

Hello Kids!! Thanks so much for the reviews!! Now I can reply to two of them hehe... ok, Andy, I love ya, but you said that it's "too farfetched to knock down Monica's door with an axe" ... did you not see TOW Rachel Tells? Joey calls the fire department; they come with an axe and chop down the door. And also... Muggleworf, I was very flattered when you said "This is a great fanfic, not the greatest ever, but definitely in the top ten thousand!" Aww, I feel so loved!!  
  
- - - -  
  
On the bus, Monica was too deep in thought to realize the woman next to her. Joey had gone to the bathroom the bus held, which was for emergencies only, but apparently he had a sandwich that didn't agree with him. The gray-haired woman stared at her, and offered a smile, but Monica was barely awake to see.  
  
With Chandler's arms around her she felt secure enough to doze off, assuming that he would keep her safe. Monica woke up, and looked at Chandler, who appeared to have taken an interest in the woman. She was elderly, seemingly weak, and had been staring at them for quite some time.  
  
"That's Charles," Chandler whispered, "Don't freak, he's sitting in the seat after Joey's, he's disguised as a woman, I know it's him."  
  
Monica stopped breathing for a second and was too frightened to turn around and look, "Oh my God, what do we do?"  
  
Silently, Chandler stood up and knocked on the door to the bathroom, slowly peering in, he whispered a "Code red" to Joey. The man immediately understood, and after zipping up his pants, came out of the small bathroom. Chandler grabbed Monica's hand firmly, and started leading her up to the front, just as the old woman took Monica's arm, refusing to let go.  
  
"Let go of me!" she yelled.  
  
Chandler tried to pull Monica away, but Charles' grip was too strong. Taking an army knife out of his pocket with his free hand, he glided the weapon harshly across Monica's arm.  
  
Old memories flashed before Chandler's eyes.  
  
A knife hitting skin.  
  
Taken away.  
  
Lost all hope.  
  
-  
  
Monica's arm was gushing with blood, and Chandler did the only thing he could; he grabbed the knife by the blade, cutting his hand sharply. Charles let go, and Chandler dropped it.  
  
At this point, Joey had taken Monica to the front of the bus, and was now rushing her off it. The commotion in the back had gathered much attention, but Chandler was in no hurry to make this a public affair.  
  
He ran off the bus, and Charles was slow to follow, taking leisure time to pick up his knife, then started strolling up to the front of the bus. Costume still on, he continued to the exit when he realized the door had already closed, and the bus was back in motion. He had missed the stop and the three he was in search of had gotten out of sight.  
  
-  
  
This was no where near where they had wanted to be, and not trusting any other transportation, they began the rest of their journey on foot.  
  
Two hours later, they arrived in Camden. Chandler had sent Joey off to get some supplies, such as food and water, and Monica and Chandler headed off to the destination that was supposedly close by.  
  
Monica didn't know where it was, but she knew that Chandler, and probably Joey, had hid there countless times before.  
  
A twig snapped underneath her foot, causing Monica to look around to make sure no one was watching. Everything scared her lately, considering she did not know what was going on. Chandler grabbed her hand, and led her to their destination.  
  
Monica was more than suspicious, she was intrigued, completely stunned about a life she never knew was being lived. Chandler promised to explain more once they got to wherever it was they were headed.  
  
All that Monica knew was that they had been walking through these woods for the past half-hour, without any explanation.  
  
"Chandler are we getting close?" Monica asked, her feet already hurting.  
  
"Yep, just a little more," he answered.  
  
"Where are we going?" She ventured tentatively, finally asking what was on her mind; she was so worried what the answer might be that her hesitance had lasted longer than she expected.  
  
"You'll see, don't worry though, it's safe. No one knows about it but Joey and me, and well, another guy, but the other guy is going to help us."  
  
They squeezed in between two bushes and came to a very small clearing, where Monica could see exactly where they were going. In front of her lay a small cave, whose entrance was partially blocked by a large boulder.  
  
"Come on, we'll be fine, just be careful." Chandler smiled at her, as he put his hand on her shoulder.  
  
They made their way over the rock, and Chandler suddenly started digging through the dirt in the sand. Luckily, it was still daytime, dusk was approaching though, and there was just enough light  
  
Out of no where, Chandler found a flashlight inside the dirt below them.  
  
"I knew it was there, that's where we keep it." He said, turning it on as they continued deeper into the cave.  
  
"Are there any bats in here or anything?" Monica asked worriedly.  
  
"No don't worry, and it's not that big, look," he showed her the end of the cave, shining the light at the back wall, then at the empty ceiling to prove that no bats dwelled there.  
  
It was then that Monica realized just how serious the cut on her right arm was. She started wiping to blood away with the hem of her shirt, until Chandler stopped her.  
  
Turning around to face her, he shined to light on her arm, "Don't, it'll get infected, don't touch it," he advised, "Joey will be here soon with food and a first aid kit, we can patch up your mess and then work on my hand," he said warmly, wrapping his arm around her as they sat down against the wall of the cave.  
  
"I can't believe this," Monica said, tears starting to well up in her eyes, "I just," she took a deep breath, "can't believe it."  
  
The flashlight still illuminating the small cave, Chandler encouraged her, "Everything's going to be fine, you'll see."  
  
Leaning toward each other they peered deep into the other's eyes, feeling a connection that was so rare.  
  
"Oh God, this cut really hurts," she complained, interrupting the moment to moan in pain.  
  
"I know, my hand is killing me," Chandler said.  
  
"Your cut is nothing compared to this, look, it's so long and it's really deep into my skin," Monica told him.  
  
"I understand."  
  
"How could you understand? You never felt something like this," she challenged, her pain forcing her to be harsher with him than she intended to.  
  
"Yes I have, look," Chandler rolled up his sleeve, exposing an identical scar.  
  
This was Monica's turn to have old memories see the light of day again.  
  
"Do you wanna be my friend?"  
  
Viciously grabbing the boy  
  
Thoughts racing  
  
Kidnapper slashing an army knife  
  
Stretching out her hand  
  
It was too late  
  
- - - - -  
  
Woo! Fast update, huh? Well what are you waiting for? Review your little heads off!! 


	9. The Device

Children! I would like to extend my apologies to Muggleworf for falsely accusing him/her of a certain review, when in actuality it was sent by someone else. I'd also like to thank Tal (Tilulation) for giving me a brilliant idea without even realizing! Thanks hon! The answer to your question will clear up this chapter. Oh, and, I'm really sorry I took so long with this... really.  
  
- - -  
  
"Oh my God," Monica whispered, barely audible.  
  
"You remember?" Chandler asked.  
  
"It's been you the whole time, I can't believe this," Monica answered, deep in thought.  
  
"Yeah, it's me, I'm the little boy that you watched get taken away," he said, looking down.  
  
"So... I mean, you, you were..." Monica stuttered, "I don't know what to say." She admitted.  
  
"You don't have to say anything," he replied, as he held her tighter, not wanting to lose the one person who connected with him the most.  
  
Suddenly, Chandler felt as if he was sitting on a stone, and put his hand underneath his leg to pull out a small chip.  
  
"Oh God," he said, realizing what he was holding.  
  
"What?" Monica asked.  
  
"This is a tracking device; Charles has been monitoring everywhere we've gone... this has been attached to my back pocket. He must've put it on me when I wasn't looking," Chandler suddenly stood up, and grabbed Monica's hand.  
  
"We have to get out of here!" Chandler exclaimed.  
  
"Why can't we just throw away the tracker thing?" Monica asked.  
  
"It's too late, he knows we're here... instead of destroying it we should attach it to a bus or something, let it drive away."  
  
They started making their way out of the cave, as Joey approached.  
  
"Where are you guys going?" Joey asked curiously.  
  
Chandler handed the small machine to Joey, who suddenly understood.  
  
"You guys, go back in the cave, I'll bring this out to the highway and put it on a car at a gas station or something, hopefully it'll drive off, then I'll be back." Joey said.  
  
"Ok, man, but be careful," Chandler told him.  
  
Monica and Chandler went back into the cave, holding hands.  
  
"Are we safe here?" Monica wondered, looking around in the darkness. It was already night time, and their surroundings were starting to get cold and creepy. The night air was streaming through the small cracks the boulder in the front had left open, and the lack of light was releasing an eerie mood that brought chills to Monica's spine.  
  
"We should be, if Joey gets that thing to move somewhere else." Chandler encouraged softly, as they sat back down against the wall, Monica lowered her head onto his shoulder.  
  
"It's going to be okay, you know that right?" He whispered back, and kissed the top of her head reassuringly, "I already promised you that, and I'm not going to break it."  
  
"I'm scared though, I'm really scared," Monica confessed with a shiver.  
  
Chandler turned on the lantern that Joey had brought, which was already dimming, but still gave off enough light for them to manage to see.  
  
Joey brought them everything they would need, jackets, blankets, food, and thankfully, a first aid kit.  
  
The two had forgotten about their bruises, and they were already beginning to heal. Monica's arm was by now starting to imprint with a lasting scar, and the blood on Chandler's hand was beginning to dry.  
  
"Come here," Chandler said to Monica, who then crawled over to where he was sitting in the middle of the cave. He started applying the alcohol onto her wound, and it instantly stung.  
  
"Ow," Monica let out quickly.  
  
"It's going to go away soon." He said looking into her eyes.  
  
"I know," she said back, and after a long pause, "Can I ask you something?"  
  
"Sure, anything," he said absentmindedly.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me earlier? You know, about the scar... did you not know that I was the person?"  
  
Chandler took a deep breath, "I knew it was you, but, I just, I knew it might bring back old memories, bad memories, and I didn't want to do that to you, God knows I have enough of them, I didn't want you to have them too."  
  
Monica smiled, "I did anyway, I never forgot that day, it's been in my head forever too."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"You have nothing to be sorry about, it wasn't your fault, if anything, I'm the one who should be sorry, I just stood there and watched, and when I finally got the courage, it was too late."  
  
Chandler was frustrated now, "No, Mon, you can't, you can't blame yourself, this was all Charles, his fault, we can't blame ourselves."  
  
"You're right," Monica relented, and as a breeze rushed through she trembled from a mixture of fear and cold.  
  
Chandler grabbed a jacket and, wrapping it around Monica, he began rubbing her shoulders.  
  
"Can I admit something to you?" Monica asked, and he nodded, "I've had this crush on you for a while now... well, it's more than a crush."  
  
She turned to him and he offered more than a smile, "You know, even though your hair is all messed up, and you have on nothing more than a t-shirt and jeans, you still look so beautiful." Chandler said truthfully, and slowly leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on her lips, "And you know what else? I think I love you. Scratch that, I know I love you." He moved forward to kiss her again.  
  
He pulled away, to see her reaction, and was immediately answered by her leaning forward to return the kiss. Monica urgently put her lips on his as their tongues continued to explore.  
  
"I know I love you too," Monica said softly between kisses.  
  
Suddenly, Chandler stopped, and moved over to grab a blanket, and wrapped it around him and Monica. Warmer and more comfortable, he fell on top of her as their long night of passion continued.  
  
- - - - - -  
  
I had to stop there... I just had to. Yes, so reviewing is good, please do it!! 


End file.
